


Hiraeth

by Wiegenlied



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Feel-good, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Tom, Part-timer Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-01-12 20:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiegenlied/pseuds/Wiegenlied
Summary: Lord Voldemort is the cruel Mafia Lord of the underworld, the likes of which no one has ever seen."No one who has seen his face has ever been left alive", they all whisper.Harry Potter is, perhaps, the most unfortunate person you'll ever meet. He works all the part-time jobs imaginable to afford living expenses and studying.This is a story of when two tangents meet.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written (and it only happened because I received lots of eager responses after sharing my sketches for this Mafia!AU I've been working on for the past week). I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I'll post a link to the art once I've completed it ///
> 
> Edit as of April 17, 2019: I finally finished the art and descriptions for this AU! [Check it out over here on tumblr](http://moonlight-modoki.tumblr.com/post/184240853375/mafia-au-i-have-finally-finished%22) and let me know what you think (*´︶`*)♡

Lord Voldemort was a cruel man.

Then again, this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that has been following the man's descent- or _ascension_ , rather- into the underworld.

What started out as minor pickpocketing incidents, evolved into clever traps and tricks (disguised in the sheepskin of normalcy) in his youth, have now transformed into the empire that is of Lord Voldemort's making.

_They say there is no shadow, no insignificant corner across the globe that has not been touched by his influence._

What people tend to forget, however, is that Lord Voldemort, at his essence is still, dare we say it- a man. One who is a tactical genius and brilliant mastermind that leaves no detail, however small, ignored. 

So when he notices a boy, the same boy- for surely that is all anyone can see when they come across the skinny, disheveled, and ragged form of the boy with green eyes- almost consistently whenever his resident _seer_ has sent him to the next... location, he is intrigued. 

For cruel men too often find themselves to be bored.

* * *

Harry Potter was an unfortunate child.

Orphaned at a young age, with no ( _decent_ , as the Dursleys had their chance and left all the marks necessary to prove it) known relatives, was left to the mercies of the foster care system.

_And what little mercies they were._

But Harry Potter survived, with his heart of gold intact if a little bruised, to reach an age where he could finally stand on his own two feet, so to speak. 

_They say there is no job, no shift he hasn't worked to help him and his sister (for that is what Hermione is, has proven herself to be and always will) to survive, to have enough for the next bill, to have just enough for their next meal, to make it to the next rent payment, to-_

What people often forget, however, is that Harry never had the chance to simply _be_ a child. He never had the chance to make friends (he suspects Ron and Hermione became his friends out of a sense of duty or moral obligation to begin with, however different that may be now), and _certainly_ never had the time for leisure.

So when he begins to get involved with some decidedly shady dealings at his workplaces ( _No seriously 'Mione, no matter where I work it's always the same group of people!_ ) he's surprised, to say the least, when the tall man with _only the most expensive suits to his name, apparently_ strikes up a conversation after their sixth or seventh encounter. After all, what harm can a conversation or two do? 

For unfortunate children often find happiness and misery aplenty in the most... unexpected of places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From thereon, the two progress from greeting each other, to actively starting conversations, to becoming something like friends. If anyone suspects Lord Voldemort (simply Tom, only to Harry) of having a soft spot... well, no one has to live with that knowledge, now do they.
> 
> Special thanks to the amazing [Luxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxis/pseuds/Luxis) for helping me get my ideas, characters, and plot organized about this AU- thank you so much for helping me figure out how AO3 works (ᗒᗣᗕ)


	2. And so they meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all those who liked, left kudos, commented, or simply took the time to glance through my fic, thank you so much! You've all given me the courage to post some more of my writing for this AU (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
> 
> It has constantly been on my mind, and has been making its appearance on any and all spare paper I have as I doodle.
> 
> Special thanks to the incredibly lovely [Luxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxis/pseuds/Luxis) and infinitely kind [Limonium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limonium/pseuds/Limonium) for beta reading- this AU wouldn't be what it is without you both 💕

At four in the morning, the tiny flat resembled the wreckage of a sudden disaster, looking as though a whirlwind was passing through. Shoes and clothes flew through the air, doors slammed open, increasingly frantic voices asked ( _Did you see my blue sweater? The red sneakers? Is it my turn to wear those today?_ )

Since reaching the age of majority, Harry and Hermione have been living together in the same dingy apartment. Though it was much too cramped for comfort, it was the only place where the rent was low enough for them to scrape by. After surviving a decade of foster care together, it just seemed like the most natural "next step" to take. They had always been together, supporting each other through the difficult times, so it was incredibly obvious that they'd continue to do so. 

With one bathroom, one bedroom (adorned with two bare mattresses, some warm blankets and wondrous pillows, courtesy of Ron), as well as one main room, the apartment was rather... small, to say the least. Which always made getting ready in the mornings a frantic affair.

Hermione worked as an assistant at a small law firm two hours away, a job she had only barely managed to land due to glowing recommendations from her high school teachers. With no professional experience to speak of, it had been a struggle convincing them of her worth- but Hermione was dedicated, if nothing else. 

From nine to five, she assisted with most of the administrative tasks- photocopying, printing, labelling, organizing... and that didn't even take into account the extra hours spent before and after everyone left to get files ready for the current working day and the next. She was highly driven and twice as determined, as one had to be if they were to earn their university tuition on their own. Hermione had her heart set on becoming a lawyer- one that could- no, _would_ \- make a difference.

Harry, on the other hand, had no regular job to speak of. He worked at all the part-time jobs he could find. Unlike his sister (because that's what Hermione was, in all the ways that counted), Harry still wasn't sure what he wanted to study- but Hermione did, and she had always been a brilliant girl. Harry would do whatever he could to help her achieve her dream. 

_It's not safe_ , Hermione would say. _You have nothing to guarantee your safety at the end of the day with all these risky jobs!_

 _It's fine_ , Harry would always promise. _I can take care of myself- we still need another $200 for bills this month, don't we?_

So by 4:30, the flat is cleared with Harry and Hermione heading in opposite directions to get to work.

Today, Harry was filling in for Seamus, and he pedaled as quickly as he could on his rickety bicycle to the restaurant. _How hard can it be to fill in for a waiter?_

* * *

Very hard, as it turns out. Harry groaned to himself as he trudged back to the kitchen to drop the new table's orders to the cook.

How Seamus did this every week was a mystery. So far today, Harry has dealt with three enraged customers ( _Why is the food taking so long?!_ ), four requests to see the manager ( _This is an outrage, a scandal!_ ), two people who have decided when the food arrives that _oh, sorry, that's not mine_ , and one very... odd table. The very same table whose orders Harry had just given to the cook.

After checking on the other customers in his section, Harry stood to the side, awaiting the signal from the cook to pick up the food once it was ready to serve.

With the requested dishes in hand, Harry headed back to the "odd" customers in question and placed the plates down. From his peripheral vision, Harry could see that the man at the head of the table was well-dressed, cleanly poised, a sense of cool but intense focus that Harry could notice even from a distance. 

The scene he came back to was, awkwardly, the same he'd left. Seated on the right was a fair skinned girl with even fairer hair, pulled back in a low ponytail reaching her elbows. The girl smiled softly to herself while gazing at the various customers at the diner. As Harry glanced at her, she turned to observe Harry inquisitively. He returned her smile a little slowly, but with just as much warmth as she has showed him. 

By great contrast, the man to the left was a quivering, nervous wreck of a man, mopping his face of sweat with a worn handkerchief.

"Now now, Quirrel. Eat," says the level voice of the aristocratic man, mildly glancing at Harry-

* * *

_A flash of green, messy hair, youthful face_

* * *

-as he set the food down. "We have much to discuss, regarding your recent... findings."

"O-of course," the poor man stuttered, quickly placing some food on his plate and taking a hesitant bite, even though it seemed like it eating was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

The girl placed some bills and coins on Harry's tray, and she softly thanked him and bid him _goodbye, we'll sort ourselves out, thank you_. 

It was only a little while later when Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't handed the receipt to that table. Which wouldn't be so odd if weren't for two things in particular:

For one, the menus at this diner didn't list the prices of the food and drinks. Which, seriously, why hasn't anyone fixed that yet? 

For another, the girl had handed Harry everything in her wallet (every spare coin and bill inside), and the amount just happened to be the exact sum of their bill. 

It was almost as though.... the girl knew everyone's order and the bill's total before she had even walked into the restaurant. 

Harry glanced towards the table in question, noticing that it had been vacated before hearing the tell-tale jingling of the door's bells. He had just turned to face the door when, at that exact moment, the hum of ongoing conversations quieted as the polite girl turned around and sent him another soft, kind, _knowing_ smile, and before Harry could react, the door closed.

In the busy restaurant, with the drone of countless conversations happening at once, the soft tinkling of the bell was heard clearly by only Harry. As the customers returned to their usual clamor, the odd individuals disappeared from the restaurant, as though they were never there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, kudos and comments are very much appreciated (*´︶`*)♡


	3. I recognize you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter! I surprised myself, but I really wanted to indulge myself in my variation of the coffee shop AU through this chapter. 
> 
> Special thanks to the incredibly lovely [Luxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxis/pseuds/Luxis) and infinitely kind [Limonium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limonium/pseuds/Limonium) for beta reading- this AU wouldn't be what it is without you both 💕

"Well that's weird," Hermione commented later that night after hearing Harry's 'mysterious diner tale.' "Do you think you've met her before? Seeing how she kept smiling at you."

Harry made a considering noise as he chewed, before swallowing and slowly shaking his head. "I think I would have remembered someone like that- but she still... I don't know, felt familiar, I guess. I was more preoccupied with wondering how she got the bill spot on than asking her if I knew her."

Ron had a puzzled sort of frown on his face, eyebrows slightly scrunched as he thought.

"If you think about it, it's not that weird," he finally said as his face cleared. "You were just filling in for Seamus right? Maybe she's a regular and knows the menu and prices by heart, or something."

Harry sighed in exasperation as he helped himself to another serving of the homemade meal Ron had brought by ( _thank you very, very much, Mrs. Weasley, Harry and Hermione thought to themselves_ )

"That would be the case, if it weren't for the fact that it took the poor guy over five minutes to stutter out his order- not even considering the fact that he changed it three times!"

Hermione shrugged as she took her dishes to the sink ( _still need to buy new sponges, Harry noted_ ). "She was probably just really good at reading people. Or maybe that man always buys the same meal, and they were used to his antics."

_A cursory glance, deep brown glinting red in the sunlight._

_The sound of a clear bell, cutting through the crowd, echoing in his ears._

"Yeah," Harry finally said, bringing his dishes to the sink as well. "Yeah, that's probably all it was."

* * *

Over the next few days, Harry had pushed the encounter to the back of his mind. With the month drawing to a close ( _as well as his chances of having enough to pay for the utility bill, dammit_ ) Harry had other things to be preoccupied with. Namely, finding another part-time job. 

"I really don't get how you do it, mate," Ron whispered in- horror? Awe? After seeing how exhausted Harry was after working five different shifts in a day. He shuffled over with a tall glass of cold water, which Harry hastily gulped down. He knew how badly both Hermione and Harry had to work to afford tuition, groceries, utilities, and saving for a flat of their own in the future. "Sooner or later, you're going to burn yourself out."

Harry simply shrugged. He just... had to do whatever he could to help, is all. Handling another job on top of the numerous (albeit reserve) positions he already held wouldn't be _that_ much worse. 

For some reason, Ron's face always pinches when Harry says this, and there's always some more food from Molly the next day, or another one of Ron's sweaters that _I don't need anymore mate_ , despite how tight the Weasley's budgets are as well. 

For some reason, Harry's throat goes tight when he sees how much they care. That people do _genuinely_ care about his well-being. 

In those moments, Hermione softly pats his shoulder, while Ron ruffles his hair. 

This is his family.

* * *

Luckily, Ginny had called earlier that morning for Harry to take her shift at the cafe she worked at. Training practice had overlapped with her shift, and Harry was happy to cover her slot (as he usually did when this happened). After proving his perseverance and ability to pick up new skills quickly the first five or so times he had filled in, even Ginny's manager didn't mind as long as _someone_ was there to work. 

Changing into his uniform, Harry joined Dean as he wiped down the vacated tables, nodding to the other employees in greeting. 

"Hiya Harry!" Colin greeted as Harry made his way behind the counter, pushing up his sleeves to get started on making some of the mobile orders that had come in. Harry sent a quick grin his way before picking up an order request (less ice, two pumps of syrup, three of caramel, one of cinnamon, extra chocolate chips, three mint leaves, seven slices of lemon, a combination of matcha and strawberry as the base, and... beetroot extract?) 

"Any plans for the weekend?" Colin asked as he wrapped up his shift, leaving Harry and Hannah as the only baristas left. 

_Other than more work?_ "Nothing really," he replied, quickly whipping up the complicated drink to be ready for pick-up. But seriously, beetroot extract? "I've got a shift over at the Chamber."

Hannah rolled her eyes, playfully nudging Harry with her shoulder as he crossed her on his way to the blender. "You _always_ have some shift to look forward to."

Topping the drink with extra whipped cream, Harry winked at the two as he placed the drink by the mobile pick-up counter. "I always do, don’t I?" 

The door opened as Hannah and Colin laughed, allowing Harry to turn back to tending the cashier. The new customer seemed to be in a heated discussion on his phone, and headed straight towards the pick-up counter. His expensive suit, styled hair, and tall height made him... stick out like a sore thumb, if Harry was honest. But the other customers seemed to appreciate the sight, so what did Harry know. 

"I have no use for liars," the man said as he passed by Harry, standing a short distance away in line at the pick-up station. "Neither do I have the patience for fools."

He paused for a moment, listening to whatever was being said to him over the phone, before his eyes narrowed and a chilling smile spread across his handsome face. "He knew the rules," the man said, naming his drink to Hannah as she brought it to him. "No women, no children."

Another pause, as he grasped his drink. When he crossed by the cashier again as he was heading back towards the door, Harry's gaze locked with the man.

* * *

_Green eyes, vivid green. Messy black hair._

_The same part-timer._

* * *

_Oh_ , Harry thought, as he sent a small nod in greeting. _It's the man from the diner._

The man simply gazed at Harry for a moment in response, before turning around and continuing his walk towards the door. "Send Gilderoy my regards," he says to his phone, before the door swiftly shuts behind him.

Hannah comes up behind Harry, gazing wistfully at the door. "For a typical tall, dark, and handsome man, he had some very weird tastes," she says.

Harry nods emphatically in response, turning around to give her a look of bewilderment. 

"Tell me about it," he says. "Who would want beetroot extract in their drink?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, kudos and comments are very much appreciated (*´︶`*)♡


	4. The Grim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This AU is just me indulging myself, I must admit. I hope it's something that you enjoy as well ✨ 
> 
> Special thanks to the incredibly lovely [Luxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxis/pseuds/Luxis) and infinitely kind [Limonium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limonium/pseuds/Limonium) for beta reading- this AU wouldn't be what it is without you both 💕

"Harry," Hermione called from the next room. He blearily opened his eyes, glancing at the alarm clock before burrowing further into the sheets. "Harry, sorry, wake up for a second," she called again while shaking his arm, voice softer this time. "Are you feeling alright? You're usually up before me for job seeking on Wednesdays."

Harry pressed the heels of his palms to his forehead, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his eyes. ( _foster home #3, Harry hazily remembered. The nightmares just won't stop._ )

"'m not feeling t'good, 'Mione. Jus' gon' sleep i'off," he mumbled, hoping against hope Hermione would leave it at that. Brow furrowed, Hermione pressed the back of her hand to Harry's forehead, murmuring softly how Harry was _going to be fine, it's ok to get tired, you're shivering, get some rest_. She gently shut the curtains after tucking Harry in, placing her own blanket on top of him as well.

"We'll talk about this when I get back today," she promised, gently squeezing Harry's hand as she got ready to leave. "Should I call the shelter and let them know you're not coming?"

Harry wearily shook his head in the negative, trying to catch any small wavering drifts of sleep. " 'm gonna see pads," Harry mumbled, small smile lifting his lips. "Wouldn' miss seein' 'im for the world."

* * *

_I can't go back there,_ the thirteen year old boy thought to himself. _I don't care where they'll put me next, but I can't stay with her. One more_ 'talking to' _and my hands..._

Cradling his fingers, Harry slipped out of the house, warily glancing back every few moments to check if his absence had been noticed. Umbridge often followed Harry out when he'd escaped to drag him back to the house, away from curious gazes and questioning neighbors. Though not before leaving Harry some reminder of why he _deserved to be punished._

The night was cool, the breeze slowly numbing Harry's sore, blistering hands. _I need to hide,_ he thought. _I can't let her find me this time. I won't._

He made his way towards the 7/11 nearby, keeping his head up and back straight. He was just a normal boy running a late night errand. He knew where he was going, and he had someone expecting him back home. If he was walking a little too quickly, gazing about a little too shiftily, well, he was just a poor boy that was simply in a hurry to reach his destination. 

_If only they knew._

A scuffing sound came from behind him, making his steps falter momentarily. A quick glance revealed no one behind him, so Harry continued his route towards the store. 

_Just two more streets,_ he told himself, an odd sense of dread pooling in his stomach. The wind was biting at him now, his clothes far too thin for the weather. _Two more and then I can hide for the rest of the night._

A voice called out to him, making Harry freeze in panic at the final stretch of the alley. "Mr. Potter," she tutted, advancing on Harry with a manic gleam in her eyes. She latched onto his arm, tugging harshly, making the pain burn bright as she hissed back at him. "I haven't finished with you just yet."

Harry fought against the blank, mindless terror in his head, forcing back the traitorous glistening of his eyes. "Please," he gasped, stumbling behind his guardian, wet cheeks despite his best efforts, wanting to pull back but in too much pain to do so. "Please, not the-" 

And that was when Sirius appeared.

* * *

Harry swung onto his bike, attempting to comb his hair with one hand and eat with the other. Once he'd finished swallowing (note: choking) his breakfast down, he sped towards the shelter. Many red lights ( _Sorry 'Mione_ ), angry drivers ( _I'm in my own lane, what about you?!_ ), and ruffled pigeons ( _In a hurry!_ ) later, he screeched to a stop outside the building, quickly locking up his bike before entering the shelter. 

He had only made it two steps in before exclaiming a choked "hrrnghk" as he was knocked down by a solid 30 kilograms of excitement. Harry's laughter rang brightly through the room as he buried his nose in soft black fur, scratching behind scruffy ears and hugging the dog warmly. 

"He's missed you, you know," a voice called out from the next room. "Padfoot always does, but he's been particularly anxious this morning."

Harry's arms tightened around Sirius, warmth blooming in his chest. "I've missed him tons too," he confessed to Remus, gratefully accepting the mug of tea he brought in. He hoped Remus wouldn't notice his shaking fingers as he reached for the cup, or for how he was still holding Sirius close, soaking in as much comfort and affection as he could. "Especially today," he said even softer.

He stumbled to his feet, grinning as he pushed Sirius off him to straighten his uniform. 

Remus smiled gently, moving back into his office to respond to the ringing telephone. "The Marauders' Shelter for Wayward Animals, how can I help you?" 

Harry had just gone back to stroking Sirius' fur when his hackles rose in tandem with Remus' voice. Remus never yelled- he had too many animals that came from abusive homes to risk their agitation. It was the reason why Remus was one of the most soft-spoken people Harry knew. 

"I don't want to hear another word from you Peter," Remus said. "Any trouble you've gotten yourself into with the underground has nothing to do with me." Silence for a few moments, before he sighed wearily. "Oh no you don't. You have lost that privilege. Don't contact me again, Peter, because I will _never_ help you," he ended harshly, hanging up and shoving the phone away with a disgusted grimace. 

Harry knocked on the office door, nervous about overstepping as an employee but knowing that Remus considered him a friend. "Is everything alright?" he asked, receiving only a weary nod in response. 

"Everything is fine. Just an old... acquaintance that's mixed himself up with some dangerous business. He's not welcome here anymore," Remus explained, nursing his own mug of tea. Harry slowly nodded, sending Remus what he hoped was a comforting smile (from Remus' soft smile, Harry knew he understood) before going back into the main room where Sirius was sitting, waiting where Harry had left him.

Harry knelt down in front of Sirius, smoothing out his fur and memorizing the happy lolling of his tongue.

"I have some good news for you," he whispered mischievously once Sirius had settled down into a sitting position. His grey eyes had always seemed to hold a glint of almost human intelligence, making Harry feel as though he was talking to just another person instead of a dog. 

"I'll be able to take you home with me soon, if you'll have me," he said, expression solemn. Though when Sirius stumbled to place one, and then his other paw on Harry's shoulders, his face split into a grin. "Just a little while more, and then no one will bring up that case ever again. It was clearly defense-

* * *

A dark blur of movement, fierce growling. "No! Back away you brute! I mean no harm!" she screeched. Red pavement, Harry stumbling back as the beast advanced. 

Soft whining, high in pitch. Cool nose snuffling at his hands, tongue licking the salt from his cheeks.

* * *

-and she's in jail," he continued in a smaller voice in case some new visitors were walking by. "What do you say, pads? Will you be there for me?"

Sirius stretched, yawning a wide doggy yawn only he could be capable of before bringing Harry a leash, bounding towards the door. He turned back to Harry after a moment, eagerly running circles around Harry and barking happily, a doggy grin on his shaggy face. 

"I'll take that as a resounding yes, then," he laughed, obediently walking towards one of the few things in his life that made him smile, feel comforted, and made the pressure in his life ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, kudos and comments are very much appreciated (*´︶`*)♡


End file.
